Speak to me,
Argue with every innate bit of reasoning you have left inside
Try and fail to convince me that the world around me has no purpose
No creator, no founder, no guide
Every artwork has a painter
Every book has an author
Every glacier is bigger on the inside
So what makes you think
That this world has something to hide?
If every object has a creator
How can you not surmise?
That we’re part of something greater
That lies in front of our eyes?
How does the sun know when to rise
Or when to put it’s light away
How does the moon know when to glow
And when to make the way for the day
How does the sky change it’s clothing
From grey to white to blue
And do the clouds alone release their sorrows with rain
Soaking the world through?
Do the winds decide which direction
They’d like to pursue
So the trees decide which leave to keep
And which to strew?
Does the weather have a change of mood
Every once in a while?
Does it turn hot then warm then chill
According to what’s in style?
Does the earth shake when it’s angry
Does the lightning strike when it’s mad?
Does the ocean spill its feelings
When it’s feeling kind of sad?
Who orders your cells to work together,
Or do they just decide to, alone?
How does your body change its shape
Do you wake up and find you’ve grown?
How does your heart contract and expand
Beating fresh blood to every part of your being
How do your legs know just when to move
How does your brain process what you’re seeing?
Did you think you came here for no purpose,
Given blessings you can never count,
Taught to feel, love, and give,
And feel emotions to an abundant amount,
Just here to live, then die once more,
Like a guest just at the door,
Created for nothing bigger, better, in store?
Look around, take a glance
At not the big, but just the small
Can this world have just existed,
For no reason at all?
Look inside, try to see
The potential meant to be
Try to figure out the deeper, stronger, meaning of “me.”